


For Comfort and Company

by ThatBohoFemme



Series: Tsavd danem [2]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Boys Being Boys, Boys Kissing, Getting Back Together, Idiots in Love, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Talks of eye poking (not graphic), late night visits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26042392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatBohoFemme/pseuds/ThatBohoFemme
Summary: "The Messiah wishes me to welcome you to our locker room." Buddy stiffens as he leans in. "Unofficially...""Come in."orMustafa opens the door to a ghost from his past.
Relationships: Buddy Murphy/Mustafa Ali
Series: Tsavd danem [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890469
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19
Collections: Extreme Deadline Exchange '20





	For Comfort and Company

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedLeaderfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeaderfic/gifts).



> Title from _I'll Change Your Mind by Kate Miller-Heidke_

"Can I help you?" Mustafa blurts out the first thing he thinks of. He hadn't expected to open the door of his studio apartment and find himself staring into the serious eyes of Buddy Murphy. 

"Officially or _unofficially_?" Buddy pauses, throwing a weary glance over his shoulder.

"Both." Mustafa crosses his arms over his chest and narrows his gaze.

This could be something. This could be nothing.

Still- he prefers not to chance anything when it comes to anyone involved with Seth Rollins.

"The Messiah wishes me to welcome you to our locker room." Buddy stiffens as he leans in. "Unofficially..."

"Come in." Mustafa opens the door wider. Maybe this is a bad idea, but something tells him this needs to needs to happen.

"Let's discuss the plan for you. The Messiah sees you fitting in in several key places..." 

Mustafa nods, giving Buddy the best faux smile he could muster. The last thing he needs is to incur the wrath of a psychopath with a God complex. Regardless, he doesn't want to give up on Buddy. 

"Get in here before I change my mind." Mustafa steps back, gesturing for Buddy to follow.

"Do I even want to know how you found me?" Mustafa's only lived in this building for about a month. Having an unexpected visitor is quite the surprise.

"Elias. Don't hurt him. He meant well." Buddy gives Mustafa a sheepish grin. 

It's the first genuine smile he's seen since he opened the door- a fact not lost on Mustafa.

"Tea or coffee?" Mustafa begins opening cupboards, searching for whatever food he had. His next delivery, of groceries wasn't due until tomorrow, but he knew he had _something_.

He couldn't entertain talk of The Messiah without cookies. 

"I'm fine with whatever you have." Buddy stands awkwardly in the corner of the living room. "You're wearing my pants." 

"What?" Mustafa stops with the cupboard door half open. He glances down. _White Hanes t-shirt and a pair of well-worn red pajama pants covered in yellow french fries..._ "Oh. I love these pants. Don't judge the french fries." 

"Believe I told you that. Then, you stole them."

"Sorry." 

The best Mustafa finds is an unopened box of something called _Fig Bertrams_ , a knock-off version of Fig Newtons that Elias had probably bought at a gas station as part of of Mustafa's housewarming gift.

"Here."Mustafa dumps a sleeve of the odd cookies onto a chipped plate. "Coffee will be right up."

Mustafa isn't quite sure what to say as he sets about making instant coffee. He lets the silence hold the space, all the while cursing himself for not having more to say. 

"Maybe I should have called first." Buddy pulls the chair back from the bistro table and sits. 

"No." Mustafa can't help being honest. "Probably better you _didn't_ call ahead."

"Why?". Buddy gives him a puzzled look, as Mustafa sets a cup of instant decaf in front of him. 

"Probably wouldn't have answered." Mustafa shrugs, placing a bowl of sugar packets between them. "Just being real." 

"Oh- a man who's blunt." Buddy pulls a cookie off the plate, and takes a hesitant bite. "Almost refreshing to not have to deal with a fortune cookie."

"A fortune cookie." Mustafa shakes his head, as he adds two packets of sugar into his coffee. "Oh how the mighty have fallen." 

"Hey - now." The fire flares in Buddy's eyes. "We can't all be you." 

"Me?" Mustafa scoffs, staring deeper into his cup of coffee " I am no one special."

"That is what The Messiah sees in you." Buddy grows soft and serious as he launches into whatever prepared speech he'd come with. "You have an _incredible_ untapped potential that Seth thinks would be quite the asset to his team."

"No thank you. " Mustafa shakes his head, emphasizing his point. "I am perfectly content on my own. Messiah or not - I don't need him." 

Buddy blinks, clearly startled by Mustafa's direct refusal. Most people were terrified at the mere _thought_ of crossing Rollins.

Mustafa had outright refused an offer to join Seth. 

"Still don't think you get it ." Mustafa takes a long sip of his coffee . "Wasn't Kevin clear the other night?" 

"What?" Buddy stirs his coffee with a teaspoon. He tries to look more interested in the coffee than Mustafa's words. It doesn't work."

"Extreme Rules." Mustafa does his best to stay patient. Losing his temper will do neither of them any good. 

Then, Mustafa does something that surprises even him. He reaches across the table and grabs Buddy's hand.

"He told you _you're too good to be in someone's shadow._ " Mustafa leans across the table and drops his voice to a low whisper. "And we both know he's right." 

Mustafa can't explain the potential he sees in this man. He carries an Incredible light .

If only Buddy could see that for himself.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence." Buddy lets out a hollow bitter laugh. 

Mustafa squeezes his eyes shut, as he runs his thumb down the side of Buddy's calloused hand. How many times had they met in battle?

Certainly more times than Mustafa could count. 

"Are you sure we can't _persuade_ you to join us?" 

"No." Mustafa cannot imagine any world where he would willingly join forces with Seth Rollins. It isn't a possibility. 

"You're..." Buddy drifts off mid-sentence as he pulls his hand back. "Maybe I should just go..." 

"You don't have to." Mustafa blows out a flustered breath, as he searches for something to say. Despite the odd nature of this conversation, it's been nice to have someone who wasn't Elias over. 

He loves Elias dearly but sometimes, talking to him is like being stuck in a Cheech and Chong movie without the copious amounts of marijuana. 

He welcomes the company, even if it's just Buddy Murphy trying to recruit him to join an eye gouging wannabe cult leading psychopath. 

"Your humanity is a treat." Buddy plucks a cookie off the plate and pops it into his mouth. 

"Why did it never work between us?" Mustafa can't shake the thought biting at the back of his head. 

They'd made a promise to never speak of that weekend in Los Angeles. 

It had been a freak thing caused by the soaring high of their amazing match and facilitated by Elias taking over a shared hotel room with Finn and Bayley. 

It had been a perfect storm, leading them to the inevitable. 

"Not sure." Buddy stuffs another cookie into his mouth. They're kind of stale and probably the worst imitation of _Fig Newtons_ Mustafa's ever tried but at least it's keeping Buddy happy. 

"You didn't think you were good enough for me." Mustafa only has the vaguest memory of their first (and only) argument. "I think I'm noticing a trend." 

"I didn't come to relive the past." Buddy stiffens, focusing on a spot over Mustafa's shoulder. He stares so intently that Mustafa gazes over his shoulder, sure Seth's about to appear. Of course, nothing happens. "I..." 

"Let's not argue." Mustafa squeezes his eyes shut, and massages his temples. "You came to convince me I'd be a worthy addition to your cult- _The Royal Order of The Eye-Pokers._ " 

"Not working?" Buddy takes another sip of coffee. 

"Not at all." Mustafa gives Buddy a sly smirk. He _knows_ Buddy is here for another reason. If only he would just _admit_ it....

"Fine." Buddy throws his arms in the air. "I came with ulterior motives." 

"Knew it." Mustafa pushes back from the table. He can't quite explain what it is that keeps him entwined to Buddy. He doesn't get it. At moments like this, he wish he did. 

"I needed your light." 

That's the last thing Mustafa expected Buddy to say. 

"Maybe you think that's odd but he just blinded Mysterio. It doesn't exactly make for the warm and fuzzy." 

"I can imagine." Before he can stop himself, Mustafa leans in, and tucks a stray piece of hair back behind Buddy's ear. It's been just hanging there all night- he'd needed to fix it. "Sorry, that was annoying me." 

"No- you're fine." Buddy buries his hands in his lap. "Believe me- this is all a breath of fresh air." 

Mustafa rises to his feet, and holds his hand out to Buddy. This may be the best idea he's ever had or possibly the worst. He can't think about it. If he thinks about it. he'll back out. 

He has to just go for it.

"We are going to regret this." Buddy mumbles between hungry kisses. " _Really_ regret it." His hands are everywhere he can possibly reach, shoving Mustafa's t-shirt up. 

Mustafa blurts out the only thing that comes to mind. 

_I don't care._  
\---  
Early the next morning, Mustafa wakes up _alone_. It's not a surprise. He'd expected as much. 

The only thing he can count on with Buddy Murphy is he likes to run from that he doesn't understand- especially if it's something (or someone) he cares about.

Surprisingly, knowing this doesn't soften the disappointment. 

He supposes part of him had hoped Buddy would still be there. 

Scrubbing the sleep from his eyes, Mustafa pushes out of bed. He throws the coveted french fry pants back on, and takes care to tie the string into a perfect knot. 

The longer he takes to dress, the longer he can put off facing reality. 

He finds the bright yellow post-it note stuck to a takeout cup of coffee in the center of the bistro table. In his rush to leave, Buddy had taken the time to be considerate. 

Mustafa doesn't know what to think of this. 

_M,  
Sorry I had to leave. The Messiah calls bright and early- and I couldn't bear the thought of waking you. I'll be in touch. Enjoy the coffee and I (eventually) want my pants back.  
Thank you for last night. Please don't hate me.  
-B_

Mustafa nods, taking it all in. There isn't anything he can really say, even if he wanted to. 

All he knows is he'll hold Buddy to his words.

This is _far_ from over. 

-end-


End file.
